


Dearly Beloveds

by MassiveSpaceWren, Shi_Toyu



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Injury, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Bucky Barnes, BAMF Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Financial Issues, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Great Depression, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, Lack of Communication, Lapdance, Lingerie, Loss of Limbs, Loss of Trust, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Permanent Injury, Pole Dancing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sharing a Bed, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Talking, Talking Like Adults, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Trust Issues, World War II, alternate universe - strippers, rationing, tiramisù
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-21 08:04:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13736661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/pseuds/MassiveSpaceWren, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shi_Toyu/pseuds/Shi_Toyu
Summary: 1930’s-1940’s stripper AU where Tony is a stripper and he and Bucky met before Bucky went off to war.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please see end notes for dance routines/songs referenced in fic.
> 
> Written by Shi_Toyu, Art by MassiveSpaceWren.

Bucky’s arm _ached-_ No, _worse_. God, he was in so much pain. The snow beneath him didn’t even feel cold. All he could focus on was the unending agony of his arm. He gasped for breath, barely able to see anything through the tears in his eyes.

The sky was so _bright_.

-

“What do you mean you don’t want to go out?” Bucky asked as he threw an arm around his best friend and jostled him fondly. “I’ll pick up a couple girls and we’ll go dancing, Stevie. You’ll have a great time.”

Steve just scowled up at him. Bucky could just barely see the top of his newest bruise blooming over the collar of his shirt. It was lucky Bucky’d gotten there in time to stop him from getting anything broken again. They couldn’t afford any more medical bills this month. Bucky would dip into his special savings if he needed to, of course he would, but he’d rather Steve just didn’t get hurt.

“No thanks. I found some charcoal thrown out by the papers today. I was thinking I’d try and do a little sketching.”

Bucky couldn’t help but grin as he ruffled the little guy’s hair, much to his indignant squawking. He’d never admit it, but he was glad Steve wanted to stay in. There was no way he’d be able to go where he _really_ wanted to go tonight if Steve was with him. He didn’t fear Steve finding out about his preferences, he feared for what Steve would do if anyone _else_ found out.

Probably get his punk ass killed trying to stop it when the cops came knocking on Bucky’s door to arrest him.

-

It’d all happened so fast. One moment he’d been holding onto the metal scrap, reaching out for Steve,  and the next he’d been falling. He didn’t even remember the fall itself, or the impact. It was as if the pain had erased everything leading up to it. God, he didn’t even know how he was still alive. That fall should have _killed_ him.

He almost wished it’d killed him.

Almost.

-

Bucky was always so, so careful about entering the club. He had to be. It wasn’t the kind of place anyone wanted to get caught going into. Not that many people knew the place’s secret, but still. Discretion was key. Discovery would be a nasty business. For all of them.

He made it inside without incident, though, slipping into the backroom when saw there were no other customers inside, sparing nothing more than a nod to the man behind the front counter. He knew Bucky’s face, if not his name. There was nothing to fear from him. He would reveal no secrets.

The lights in the backroom were dim, and Bucky picked his way carefully through the twisting maze of crates and supplies. It wasn’t a large room, but purposefully packed to make it hard to navigate. The stairwell against the backwall was well-hidden and excitement welled up in Bucky’s chest as he trotted down the metal steps. There was a heavy door at the bottom and Bucky knocked on it once, a sharp rap, and waited.

A large man who looked like a brawler opened the door, a grin spreading over his face upon catching sight of Bucky that transformed him from a grizzly into a teddy bear. It probably said something that he didn’t even ask Bucky for the passcode before opening the door wider to let him in.  Bucky grinned and clapped him on the shoulder and passed over the entry fee, his heart pounding all the more to be getting that much closer to his goal. Already, his eyes searched the room for what he really sought. Kenny laughed at him.

“You won’t see him out there,” the large man chuckled. “Your favorite is in the back, getting ready. We’re down a dancer so he’s taking some extra rounds. Have a seat. He’ll be on stage soon.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest. There was no use. They all knew what he was here for, _who_ he was here for. He headed toward the stage, pleased to spot his usual seat open. It was still early, only a few patrons scattered about the room, but it would fill up later on in the night. Bucky wanted a clear view of the stage, but enough privacy to enjoy some companionship between the shows.

He waved a quick hello to JJ at the bar before settling in. He wouldn’t be drinking tonight. There was only one thing he wanted to spend his money on.

-

The pain wasn’t so sharp and searing anymore. It was an all-consuming ache, eating away at him. His entire body ached, the cold finally settling into his bones. It was so much worse than those nights the Howlies had spent huddled together in a foxhole. At least then they’d had each other for warmth. Dimly, Bucky knew he should try and move, try and find shelter before nightfall, which couldn’t be too far off by now. If he was still out here after dark, he’d freeze to death for sure. He just… couldn’t find the energy. But… if he died… he’d never get to see Tony again.

-

Bucky sat to attention as the stage curtains were drawn back. There were three poles in total, each spaced a little ways apart, two up front and one toward the back. A chair sat in the center of the stage, its back facing the audience, and a slim, brunet man sat slumped in it, leaned over backwards to stare out at them with whiskey-gold eyes. A roguish smile played across his lips. He was young, no more than nineteen or twenty at the most, but his gaze carried the weight of the world.

“Well,” he greeted them, “good evening.”

The music started, then, and so did his dance.

He rose from the chair in one graceful movement and seemed to _flow_ across the stage, dragging the tips of his toes across the floor as he strolled around the chair. He was clad in a pair of tight shorts and a pinstriped vest, a watch tucked into one of the pockets and its chain glinting in the light. The only other things he wore were his garter belt and a pair of sheer stockings. Bucky had felt them, before. He was pretty sure they were silk.

Bucky watched, enraptured, as the man twisted and contorted himself on stage, highlighting his slim, yet masculine figure. There was no denying the strength in his frame, the muscles lining his arms and legs. He was all man.

He spun the chair he’d just climbed out of around so it faced the audience, hooded eyes casting a sultry glance around the room. They paused on Bucky for a split second and a wink was sent his way before they darted off again. It was fascinating to watch the way the man’s body flowed as he switched his weight back and forth before leaning forward over the chair and damn well _slithering_ over the top and into it again.

In a flash, he was up again, strolling a slow circle around before lifting one leg to place it on the chair’s seat and running a sensual hand from his ankle to his ass. He threw his head back with a grin, making sure they all knew just how much he was enjoying himself. Then he slid his foot across the chair so he was straddling it, back to them. Bucky’s pants were uncomfortably tight as the man onstage gyrated before placing his hands on the seat behind him and lifting his legs into the air.

The dance continued, the performer turning himself around in the chair some more before dragging it over to one of the poles and continuing there. Every move he made was deliberate and perfectly timed. He was beauty and grace and, _God,_ Bucky wanted him. It didn’t help at all that Tony’s eyes found his as the performance ended.

-

Bucky blinked his eyes back open. He didn’t remember closing them. Had he slept? He had a feeling he wouldn’t have woken up if he did. Something had made him open his eyes, though. What was it? Had he heard something?

-

Tony set himself down in Bucky’s lap, arms around the back of his neck, and leaned in for a kiss. Bucky wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist, not pulling him closer or keeping him there, but just to feel the other man in his arms. He could taste the alcohol on Tony’s lips, but that was nothing new.

“You looked great up there tonight, doll,” he praised.

Tony hummed happily and wiggled in Bucky’s lap, doing absolutely nothing to help Bucky’s almost painful erection. He always did enjoy getting compliments.

“You could always buy a private dance and I can show you what I can really do,” he purred into Bucky’s ear.

Bucky smiled through the sting. He really needed to stop forgetting that this was just a job for Tony. He was in it for the money. Bucky knew that. They might get on well, might even be something that could almost be considered friends, but that didn’t change the situation. Tony was here to get paid.

“Next paycheck,” he promised. “You know I’m saving up. Nothin’ in the world I’d rather spend it on than you.”

Tony laughed, a bright sound that made Bucky’s heart beat a little harder every time.

“Promises, promises,” he teased, coming in for another kiss. “You always keep me waiting.”

Bucky happily kissed him back, knowing it was only a matter of time before Tony had to leave to entertain another client, one who could afford to pay more than just the door fee.

“You’re always worth the wait.”

-

There was a crunching noise, off in the distance. Not like the crunching of glass, but… snow? The crunching of snow?

Bucky was so tired.

-

It wasn’t the first time he’d bought a private session with Tony, but that didn’t make it any less special. He knew he could spend less money and get lap dances out on the public floor, but part of him wanted this to be private, just the two of them. He knew what happened back here with most guys, the extra little add-ons, but that wasn’t why Bucky liked this.

He saved up to book Tony for a couple hours. It was all he could afford and he’d had to take an extra job just so he could. He felt guilty about it, too, since that meant the job didn’t go to some guy who probably needed it to feed himself and his kids, but… Bucky needed to see Tony. He’d picked up a tiramisu from Ricci’s because Tony had mentioned how much he liked it. The damn thing cost nearly as much as Tony’s time did, but the ingredients weren’t exactly cheap these days.

Tony was worth it.

Tony led him to one of the private rooms as soon as he got the slip from JJ that told him Bucky’d bought him. He was always so eager, giving Bucky that dazzling smile of his and taking him by the hand to pull him along. Bucky had been a big ol’ bag of nerves the first time, but Tony had just cooed at him and jabbered away until he calmed down. By now, they both had the routine down pat.

There was a long couch in the room, which Tony deposited Bucky on before making his way over to the pole. They both ignored the bed. They never used it. There was a phonogram tucked away in the corner and Tony made a show of going through the records before picking the same one he always did. The songs they played in the main room were always faster, harder, meant to get the blood going. Here, their song was a slow one. _But Not for Me_ … Sometimes Bucky wondered if Tony’s wasn’t trying to say something with it.

He started off the routine by pulling himself up onto the pole by his arms and just spinning around it, body tilted out and flat as a board. It was moments like this that reminded Bucky of just how strong Tony had to be in order to pull off these moves. He twisted and bent around the pole, expertly adjusting to speed up or slow down his spins without having to swing his whole body around to get more momentum. It was beautiful.

[ ](http://s1175.photobucket.com/user/mmhannaford/media/1940%20Stripper%20-%20Tony%20on%20Pole_zpsopj4naym.jpg.html)

It was exciting to watch him, yes, but it was also peaceful. Tony looked so happy, in that element. Or, not happy, exactly, but maybe content. Bucky knew things weren’t good for him, that he would have taken a different job in a heartbeat if he could get one. There just weren’t that many jobs out there. Of course, he also knew that Tony really did enjoy the actual dancing part of things. It was freeing, he said, like feeling the song in his soul and being able to fly.

When the performance was over, Tony joined him on the couch and they talked while sharing the tiramisu with a single spoon. Bucky only took a couple bites, wanting Tony to get most of it. There was no way Tony didn’t notice that, too, but, as always, he said nothing. They lay longways on the couch, Bucky sitting up against one side and Tony laying between his legs, curled up on his chest. They talked, about countless things, and made out as the mood struck them. Bucky told Tony about Steve, and all the hell the punk put him through, his fears about arriving too late to a fight one of these days. Tony told him about being thrown out by his father when the man discovered his son was a Nancy-boy. But, hey, at least he hadn’t turned Tony over to the cops, right?

Bucky could almost pretend it was real, and not just something Tony was getting paid to do.

-

Footsteps.

The crunching was from footsteps in the snow.

They were coming closer.

Someone was coming closer.

-

“I ship out next week,” Bucky said, keeping his spine straight.

The heavy material of his uniform felt stifling. He didn’t feel half as proud to be wearing it as he had just a few minutes before. Not now, seeing the fear in Tony’s eyes.

“Where?”

“Europe.”

Tony’s fingers twitched like they wanted to reach out toward him.

“Is this the last time I’ll see you before you go?”

Bucky wished it weren’t.

“There’ll be a lot of things I need to do to get ready. My ma and sisters aren’t gonna leave my side once I’ve told ‘em.”

“You haven’t yet?”

Bucky’s smile was sad.

“I wanted to tell you first. I didn’t want to run the risk of disappearing on you.”

This time, Tony did reach for him, taking his hand and pulling him across the floor, toward the hallway that led to the backrooms.

“JJ,” he called as they passed the bar, “mark me down as booked for the night. No stage dances. No special calls.”

Bucky sputtered even as JJ nodded and waved them on, not that Tony had slowed down at all.

“I-I can’t afford-“

“Don’t worry,” Tony cut him off, turning around suddenly and laying a kiss on him. “Tonight’s on me.” Then, pulling away and giving a sassy wink, the moment of vulnerability lost, he continued, “Gotta send a soldier off right, don’t I?”

Later that night, when they lay in the bed for the first time, a tangle of limbs, Bucky drew patterns on Tony’s bare back with the tips of his fingers. Tony’s head lay on his shoulder, a comforting weight. His eyes were glued on Bucky’s uniform where it was carefully draped over the back of the couch.

“Will you promise me something?” he asked quietly, voice soft, as if he expected to be denied before Bucky even knew what it was.

“Anything.”

Tony pushed himself up so he could lock gazes with Bucky, expression serious and open, fear and trepidation clear.

“Promise me you’ll come back?”

Bucky smiled at him and pulled him into a kiss.

“I promise,” he said, as soon as they parted. “I tell you what, how about this? The first Saturday after I come home, I’ll go to Ricci’s and get a table out front. I’ll order a tiramisu and wait for you there.”

Tony kissed him again, softly.

“You’re not going to come back here? To the club?”

“Well, I could, but seeing as I’m leaving, there’s going to be an opening at the mechanics shop I work at… I thought you might be interested. I know it’s pretty different, but I could introduce you to the owner. We’re mostly workin’ on plane parts right now anyw-“

Tony cut him off with yet another kiss and didn’t let him go for the rest of the night.

-

Something was blocking the bright sky but Bucky couldn’t focus enough to tell what it was. He couldn’t feel much of anything anymore either. There was movement above him, though. He could tell that. And shouting. It was muffled, but he was pretty sure that was just him.

Someone slapped him.

He blinked his eyes rapidly, finally able to focus in on the face hovering above him. He grinned madly at the blond hair and blue eyes that greeted him. He’d recognize that mug anywhere.

“S-ssssteee,” he managed to rasp, before his head lolled back and darkness finally took him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Videos:
> 
> For Tony's dance on the main stage - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JcMCusrVAA&index=1&list=PL19qxcgIzyjrrh3aIbT5_BYvhs9KMfbnR
> 
> For Tony's Private Dance - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JoV9RblZdsY&t=1s  
> Music for Private Dance (Will sync with first vid, start 20 seconds in) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MiI-iYp_b9Q&index=2&list=PL19qxcgIzyjrrh3aIbT5_BYvhs9KMfbnR


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's back from the war, but his and Tony's problems have only just begun.

Tony felt the shame curl tight in the pit of his stomach as his eyes locked with Bucky’s over the other man’s shoulder, foreign hands on his hips and lips against his neck. His heart broke at the look of betrayal on Bucky’s face and he felt tears sting his eyes. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. The war was _over_. Things were supposed to be _better_ now.

-

The war was over, at least in Europe.

Tony’d been ecstatic when he’d heard the news. Everyone was. There was still the Pacific front left, but that was something they could worry about tomorrow. Bucky was in Europe. (And, yes, Tony absolutely recognized him in each and every one of those Captain America films.) Bucky was coming _home_.

The first and second Saturdays Bucky didn’t show up at Ricci’s, Tony wasn’t too worried. These things took time. He understood that. He wasn’t even worried after the first _month_. One month turned into two, though, and two turned into three. After the fourth month, Tony stopped going.

He’d always wondered about Bucky, back when he’d been a client at the club. He didn’t seem to show any interest in the other dancers, but everyone had their favorites. That was nothing new. It was just… Tony’d always _hoped_ there might be something more there. Bucky had helped him get a _job_ , for heaven’s sake, a real one where he didn’t have to take off his clothes just to make the customers happy.

Tony supposed he was just that nice of a guy. Niceness only went so far, though. Now Bucky was a hero, a soldier and a Howling Commando who’d worked with _Captain America himself_. He could do a whole lot better than Tony.

-

“Wha-“ Bucky cut himself off, anger twisting his features. Then he came right back, “What the fuck is this?”

Tony cringed away, shoving the other man off of him. Thomas, maybe? God, it didn’t even matter. Nothing mattered but how _mad_ Bucky looked.

“No, Bucky! Please, it’s not what it looks like! I can explain!”

Bucky jerked away when Tony reached for him, like he couldn’t stand to even be _touched_ by him.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice you slipping out?” he accused. “You’ve been doing it for weeks now. If you didn’t want to be with me you should have just said so, instead of walking out with other fellas behind my back.”

It was like a frozen dagger to Tony’s heart. No, _no._ That wasn’t what this was! That wasn’t it at _all_.

-

Tony steadfastly refused to go out of his way to avoid Ricci’s. He wasn’t going to change _his_ life just because Bucky had decided not to keep his promise. (Because it had to be that Bucky just didn’t keep his promise. He couldn’t be dead. He _couldn’t_ be.) Of course, that didn’t mean he could stop glancing over the patio tables every time he walked by, either, even if it wasn’t a Saturday.

It was a Tuesday, actually, and evening when he glanced over while walking home from his shift at the mechanic shop. It was a cursory glance at best, not expecting to find anything.

Tony froze mid-step when he spotted him, though.

His hair was long, longer than should be regulation with his dress uniform. It was six months after the war, though, so that wasn’t exactly unheard of. His posture wasn’t proud, either, like many military men after they came back. He was slumped in the chair, staring listlessly as the tiramisu on the table in front of him and the two spoons with it. A duffle bag lay on the ground beside him, like he’d just gotten off the boat home. Tony was damn lucky he didn’t get run over as he stepped out blindly into the road.  Instead, a blaring horn startled him out of his stupor and back onto the curb.

Barely daring to take his eyes off the man on the patio, Tony beat a hasty retreat toward the crosswalk at the end of the block and made his way across the street there. He could practically feel his heart climbing up out of his chest and into his throat the closer he drew. The man on the patio didn’t look up until Tony was practically right in front of him.

“Bucky?”

Lost eyes found his and a voice he hadn’t heard in far too long breathed his name out like a prayer.

“Tony.”

-

Bucky turned sharply, back stiff, and started walking away. Panic seized Tony’s chest. He couldn’t lose Bucky now, not after everything they’d been through! Not after waiting for him through the war and expecting never to see him again only to get him back. Not after the struggles to make ends meet. Not after turning back to _this_.

“Wait-“

He cut himself off as a hand clamped down on his wrist, the grip tight enough to make Tony flinch. The man he’d pushed past, his _client_ , scowled at him.

“What’re you goin’ after him for? My time’s not up yet.”

Tony tugged at his wrist, a bit of desperation leaking out onto his face and into his voice.

“I’ll refund you,” he rushed to reassure, even though they didn’t at _all_ have the money for him to do that. The guy’d paid _extra_ to do this out here, as opposed to in the safety of the club. Tony’d figure something out, though. He’d have to. He could stand to lose anything. _Just not Bucky._ “I have to go. I’m sorry. I have to-“

He bit down on a cry of pain as the hand on his wrist tightened.

“He botherin’ you?” Tony’s client asked, glaring down the alley toward where Bucky had headed off. Tony immediately moved to put a hand on his chest. “Are you being threatened?”

“No!” he cried, then immediately winced at the volume of it. “Bucky would never! I just, I need to- Let _go_ of me!”

-

“What do you mean you got _declined_?” Tony exclaimed, hurriedly scrambling for the papers Bucky was hunched over at their meager kitchen table. Tony’d managed to fix the wobble, but that didn’t stop it from looking like it was about to collapse at any moment. Still, it was all they could afford. Tony had barely been scraping by and with Bucky living with him now… They’d just been biding their time in his shitty little apartment until the government money came through and they could actually move somewhere decent, maybe even get a _house_.

He sat heavily as he stared at the letter in his hands. He and Bucky had sat down to fill out the paperwork together. They’d been _meticulous!_ He didn’t understand how Bucky could be _declined_ his military benefits. This shouldn’t have happened! What were they gonna do? They were barely getting by without that money…

Tony looked up, turning to Bucky only the freeze. Bucky’s shoulders were hunched, his head down, and he clutched at the stump of his arm with his only remaining hand. Even without being able to see all of his face, Tony knew his expression was pained. They hadn’t talked much about what had happened over in Europe, mostly because Bucky so clearly didn’t want to, but Tony knew enough to know he’d been captured for a while before he’d fallen and lost the arm. Bucky had brought a hell of a lot of physical scars back with him, but they were just the ones on the surface.

Fear clenched Tony’s heart, and not because of the money. Shellshock, they were calling it. More than just a few of the soldiers had come back home from the war with it. Tony had seen from a distance as it had ripped them apart. He heard the talk in the shop about Peter’s friend Harry who attacked his wife without realizing it was her, how he’d then drunk himself half to death and seemed intent on staying there.

That couldn’t happen to Bucky. Tony had seen the signs of his self-hatred already and he _refused_ to let those seeds take root. He would do whatever it took to make sure that didn’t happen, that it never happened. He would protect Bucky, even if it was from himself. He’d just… He’d have to figure the money thing out.

“Hey,” he called softly, reaching across the space between them to place his hands on each of Bucky’s cheeks, tilting his head up so Tony could catch his eye, “we’ll sort this all out, okay? Maybe we filled something out wrong. We can go down to the office tomorrow and-“

[ ](http://s1175.photobucket.com/user/mmhannaford/media/1940%20Stripper%20-%20Face%20Cradle_zpstwrkcqtx.jpg.html)

“No,” Bucky stood sharply, breaking their contact and forcing Tony to let go. “I shouldn’t have gotten our hopes up in the first place. No need wasting more time on something that ain’t never gonna happen.”

He didn’t slam the door to the bedroom behind him, didn’t even shut it, but the silence he left behind seemed just as loud to Tony’s ears.

-

“I said let go!”

Tony yanked at his wrist again, but the man made no move to release him. Instead, he started hauling Tony back down the alley and toward the club.

“I know you’re scared,” he comforted, like he couldn’t tell Tony was trying to get _away_ from him, “but you don’t need to be. We’ll take care of things. Let me just grab some of the other guys and we’ll _encourage_ that guy to keep his mouth shut, okay?”

“No! Stop it! You’re not listening!”

The punch came out of fucking nowhere.

-

“Please,” Tony begged, “isn’t there someone you can talk to? Or I can talk to? There has to be some sort of mistake.”

The harried attendant behind the counter gave him a look that, to her credit, was at least sympathetic even as she slid the paperwork and letter back toward him.

“Look,” she said softly, “I really would like to help, but we have thousands of men coming back, all of them applying for their benefits. All of your forms seemed to be filled out correctly so if you got denied, there’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry.”

Tony shuffled uncomfortably, resisting the urge to glance around the room at all the other veterans. There was a whole line behind him, and Tony knew their patience would only last so long.

“We just, we really need the money,” he tried, even though his hope that it would go anywhere had already pretty much vanished.

“I’ll pass the name on to my manager,” was all the woman at the desk would give him, “but I wouldn’t count on anything coming of it.”

Tony nodded jerkily, his throat tight.

“Thank you,” he managed to get out, gathering up the papers and heading for the door.

There was no way Bucky would be able to get a decent job with his arm, especially not with the pain it was still causing him. Besides, the last thing Tony wanted was to make him feel any guiltier about this whole situation than he already did. Tony could get a second job, though, and just tell Bucky he’d picked up some extra hours at the shop. That would be believable. It’d just be near impossible to _find_ a second job in this economy. Tony wasn’t a veteran. He hadn’t gone off to war, mostly because he didn’t technically exist to be _found_ and drafted anymore. It was part of why he’d wound up at the club, since they didn’t exactly check papers.

They also had flexible hours.

Kenny and JJ were still there, he knew, and Aster would put him back on the schedule in a heartbeat.

Bucky would hate it, Tony knew. He knew how much Tony had disliked working there before. It wasn’t that he was treated poorly, or that the customers were boorish (though some of them were). It was just… selling himself. He felt dirty, disgusting. He’d felt so _relieved_ to have the chance to escape that life, to have an opportunity to become something more than what his father had predicted he’d be.

But, for Bucky, Tony could be that person again. He could go back to that life. He could do those things. He’d do less, of course, he wasn’t going to let another man take him, not when he was Bucky’s fella now. He wasn’t going to _cheat_ , not even to pay the rent. He’d just dance, maybe allow some kisses and groping for the cash, but nothing more.

And Bucky… Bucky would never have to know. It’d tear him apart.

-

Tony yelped and stumbled backward as the fist came right past him to slam into his client’s face. The man immediately released him, no surprise as the punch had sent him literally off of his feet. He crumpled to the ground and didn’t make any move to get back up.

“Oh, my God…”

“Tony? Tony, doll? Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

It took a second for Tony’s brain to catch back up and realize it was Bucky speaking to him. Bucky had _come back_.

“You,” Tony trailed off for a moment. “I’m fine. He just-There was a misunderstanding. Oh, my God, is he _alive?_ ”

He dropped to his knees immediately, rolling his client over and pressing an ear to his chest to check for a heartbeat. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found one. The blood still pouring from the man’s nose wasn’t much comfort, but at least he wasn’t dead. Tony turned his attention back to Bucky. For the first time, he realized how _scared_ Bucky looked. He was on his feet in an instant.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Bucky started to reach out for him, only to stop with his hand suspended halfway between them. He was trembling faintly.

[ ](http://s1175.photobucket.com/user/mmhannaford/media/1940%20Stripper%20-%20Tentative%20Reach_zps16xhd05k.jpg.html)

“I-I heard you cry out,” he admitted. “I heard it and suddenly I was back in that HYDRA lab and it was a thousand times worse because _you_ were there with me and I-“ he choked on the words, tears gathering in his eyes and Tony couldn’t take it anymore.

He didn’t care if they were fighting, or if Bucky had just discovered Tony with another man’s hands on him, he threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist and burying his face in Bucky’s shoulder. He couldn’t even describe the feeling as he felt Bucky’s arm wrap around him, clutching at the fabric of his vest just as desperately as Tony clung to him.

“I’m so sorry,” Tony apologized. “I didn’t want you to know so I lied and I never meant to hurt you and I’m just _so sorry_.”

Bucky’s lips pressed against the top of Tony’s head as they shook together.

“We’re gonna talk about this,” he said, voice rough. “All of it. Just… Right now can we just… I really want to take you home.”

Tony squeezed him tighter for a moment, dreading the future and the conversation to come, before nodding against Bucky’s neck and drawing back just slightly.

“Yeah. We can do that, yeah. Let’s go home.”

He wasn’t sure if he could make up for all this, or even manage to explain it, but he’d try. For Bucky, he’d try.

And he’d accept whatever Bucky wanted to do with that explanation, too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Bucky finally have their talk.

Bucky would be the first to admit he hadn’t handled coming back from the war well. He knew he was fucked up. He _knew_ that. Between being captured by Hydra, losing his arm, and even just the day-to-day of seeing action with the Howling Commandos, Bucky had enough trauma to last him the next 70 years. He knew he should be grateful that he’d made it back at all – that they’d _all_ made it back – and he was, but he also felt like he was losing his damn mind.

Steve and the others were still with the SSR, still working to clean up the mess left behind from the war, from Hydra and the Nazis… and Bucky was useless, down an arm and shipped back home as soon as he was cleared by medical. He wasn’t needed anymore. Not, he supposed, that he’d been needed in the first place. Steve was the one who’d dragged him into the whole thing. He certainly never would have been selected by any of the higher ups. He was, _was_ , a damn good sniper, but there were no illusions about just how much of a little shit he was, too.

And Bucky had been fine with that. He really had been, when he still had all his limbs and was at least useful for _something_. He’d gone to war wanting to make a difference, and he had, but he hadn’t counted on coming back so broken.

It was a miracle that Tony, sweet, wonderful, _amazing_ Tony, had still wanted him at all. He’d welcomed Bucky back with tears and hugs and (private!) kisses, clinging to him just as much as Bucky’s Ma and sisters did when he finally made it back to them. Bucky didn’t mind his fussing so much, though, at least not as much as his family’s, and gladly moved into Tony’s tiny apartment with him. He felt like a burden, sure, and his moods were often dark and sullen, but he pushed through them with the same stubbornness that’d gotten him through a life of being Steve Rogers’s best friend. His military benefits would come in soon and he’d be able to pull his own weight again, even get them a nicer place so Tony didn’t have to worry so much about trying to fix up their little shithole.

Only, his benefits got declined.

Bucky didn’t like to call it his breaking point. He’d already _been_ broken, by then, so it certainly wasn’t that. It was more like… his realization point. It was the moment he hit that wall and realized there was nothing that was going to make him worth it anymore, nothing that could compensate for what utter trash he was. He was a little tin soldier too bent out of shape to play with and now it was time to throw him away. It was what the SSR had done as soon as he couldn’t go out on missions anymore, what the military had done by declining him his benefits, what Tony would do as soon as he wised up and his common sense overtook his pity and blind hope.

Tony was just… so _good_. He deserved so much better than Bucky could give him. And Bucky wasn’t blind. He could see how much Tony was struggling to make ends meet for the two of them. He was trying so _hard_ , putting everything he had into a life for the two of them, a life where they could never actually acknowledge what they meant to each other to anyone else, a life where they would always have to hide, a life where he would always be having to drag along Bucky’s dead weight.

Bucky hated it.

He hated that Tony had to be the one taking care of him, when all he’d ever wanted was for it to be the other way around. He hated that Tony picked up extra hours at the garage to make sure they had food on the table. He hated that there was nothing to do to help. He hated that all his pain and anger at _himself_ was making him lash out at the man he loved more than anything in the world.

Most of all, _most_ of all, Bucky hated the moment when he figured out that Tony’s extra money wasn’t coming from the garage, and that the extra hours he’d been working weren’t there.

And Bucky, Bucky had always been the kind of fella who had to _know._ He couldn’t just let it lie and willfully stay ignorant of what was happening. Besides, he might be down an arm, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have all the skills he’d learned in the war. Tony never even knew he was being followed. Bucky never even knew his heart could feel as broken as it did when he watched Tony slip into the club.

The club where they had met.

The club where Tony used to work.

The club where Tony had taken his _clothes_ off for strangers just so he could afford to eat, where he’d started drinking to numb the pain, that he’d been so desperate to escape from.

Bucky had driven him back there. He really had no one to blame but himself and it made him feel _ill._ But… he didn’t know what to do about it either.

He couldn’t leave Tony. He was too selfish for that, even if the guilt ate at him. Tony wouldn’t have to put himself through this if Bucky wasn’t in the picture, but Bucky was pretty sure he’d lose what little grip on reality he had left if he lost Tony. No one was gonna hire him with just one arm, either, so even if he managed to pull himself together enough to look for a job, that wasn’t an option. He didn’t know what to _do._

Thank fuck for Stevie showing up at his door just two weeks later.

His best friend had stormed in looking pissed as all Hell as soon as Bucky opened the damn door and launched straight into a rant about bureaucracy and paper-pushers and miss-filed documents. It’d taken Bucky nearly half an hour to calm him down enough to get an explanation he could actually understand. The one he got nearly knocked him straight off his feet.

His files had been marked as classified because of his work with the SSR so when he’d filed for his military benefits, they hadn’t been able to find him. All of his paperwork was still being held with that of the other Howling Commandoes, who didn’t qualify because they were still active duty. It was a _mistake_. His benefits being declined had come down to a _clerical error._

Bucky didn’t even ask how Steve had known Bucky had been denied his benefits. He didn’t _care_. He just- It was the answer he’d been looking for. He’d get his benefits, get back benefits, at this point. Tony wouldn’t have to keep working at the club. Bucky could support him, take care of him, just like he’d wanted. He could make Tony _happy_.

He’d begged Steve to stay, to wait while he went and got his roommate. He could tell Steve didn’t understand, that he didn’t see why Bucky’s roommate should matter so much right now, but that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because Bucky was so over the fucking moon and he had to tell Tony _right that instant_. He’d run out the door and headed straight for the club. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this excited for something, this genuinely happy.

Seeing Tony with the other man had been like a bucket of cold water to the face.

Granted, Bucky hadn’t really thought about what Tony might be doing at the club, not if he could help it. He didn’t _want_ to think about it. But they weren’t _in_ the club. They were one the _street_ and part of Bucky was having a heart attack over the thought of _what if Tony got caught_ and the other part of him was fucking _pissed off_ because if they were outside of the club then it wasn’t just fucking _business_.

Bucky could admit, he hadn’t been very nice about that discovery. Even though he could see Tony’s panic and his desperation, even though, if he took two seconds to think about it, he _knew_ Tony wouldn’t betray him like that, he’d still lashed out. He’d still gone for the blows he knew would hurt the most, if only to cover up his own pain. And then he’d heard Tony’s cry of pain, his shouts to be let go of and…

Well, Bucky wasn’t fooling anyone with his play acting at being _stable_.

It’d snapped him out of it, though, out of his blind anger. He’d hustled Tony back to their apartment, not caring if he stood maybe a little bit too close on the street. Anybody with eyes would be able to tell he was shaken up, and his empty sleeve would tell them why. They wouldn’t think anything of it. As soon as they were through the door and it was shut behind him Bucky was pushing Tony back up against it, stealing kisses and whispering apologies between their lips. Tony was just as desperate, clinging to Bucky and pleading with him for something he couldn’t quite articulate.

Steve’s throat clearing was probably the only reason they didn’t end up fucking right then and there.

Steve was beet red, eyes carefully averted. Bucky had completely forgotten he was _there_ , forgotten in all the fuss what had him out there looking for Tony in the first place. He stood stock still, staring at his best friend, mind trying to process. He could feel Tony trembling between him and the door.

“Oh, God,” Tony whispered, fear and horror bleeding from the words like an open wound. “Oh, God!”

Bucky’s gaze snapped back to him in an instant, taking in the fear and tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

“It’s okay,” he comforted. Because he knew exactly what was going through Tony’s head, knew what’d happened when Tony’s father had found out he fancied men, but Steve was safe. Stevie had always been safe, even if he hadn’t known before. “It’s okay. This is Steve.”

Steve cleared his throat again, though this time it seemed more to actually get his voice working.

“So, uh, I guess this is your ‘roommate,’ huh?” he attempted to joke, even if it fell flat.

Bucky pulled away from Tony slowly, but took his hand and squeezed it firmly. He wasn’t about to let him go. Not now. Not ever.

“Yeah. This is Tony.”

Tony, to his credit, managed to give Steve a wobbly little wave.

“Hi.”

“It’s-It’s nice to meet you, Tony. I guess Bucky didn’t tell you I’d stopped by.”

Tony’s eyes darted up toward Bucky, then back to Steve.

“No. We’ve… had quite a few surprises back to back here.”

Steve hummed and nodded, shifting awkwardly.

“Right,” Bucky said. “Sorry. I kinda forgot you were here. My fault.”

Steve’s brow was scrunching up, eyes roving over them both. He’s always known Bucky too damn well for his own good.

“Is everything… alright?” he asked cautiously. “Did something happen?”

Tony let at a laugh that was just a touch hysterical and Bucky turned to him with a concerned noise, reeling him in and releasing his hand in favor of wrapping his arm around Tony’s shoulders and tucking him under his chin.

“Yes and no,” he replied to Steve. “There was a bit of an incident when I went to find Tony. We kinda need to talk, actually. Do you mind if we…?”

He glanced toward the back bedroom, the only other room in their tiny little apartment other than the bathroom and the one they were currently in, really, and Steve just rolled his eyes and snatched his jacket off the kitchen table.

“I went through your icebox while you were out, actually. How about I take my good, sweet time getting some groceries and you two sort out whatever it is you need to sort out? I’ll cook us something to celebrate.”

Bucky pulled Tony closer, feeling a bit like he might break into a thousand pieces if he didn’t have something to hold onto.

“Thank you,” he forced out through a throat that didn’t want to cooperate, voice rough.

He hated accepting the charity, but there was only so much he could handle dealing with right now and that wasn’t the hill he wanted to plant his flag and die on. Steve just gave him a firm nod and headed for the door. He paused when he reached it, though, hand on the knob.

“For what it’s worth,” he said haltingly, eyes darting down to where Tony was still cowering in Bucky’s chest, “I’m glad. You deserve to be happy, Bucky.”

Then he was out the door and gone and Bucky was left hoping he got to _keep_ his happiness. He and Tony stood in silence for a long moment before he went to take a step back. It was harder than he would have expected it to be, but he wanted to be able to see Tony’s face. He slid his hand up to gently cup the other’s jaw and pressed soft kisses to his eye lids.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke roughly. “For everything, these past few months. You haven’t deserved the way I’ve treated you. You’ve been nothing but supportive and caring, taking care of me when I’m ain’t doin’ nothing to carry my own weight. And that ain’t right and I was so _frustrated_ by it, by my own uselessness, that I took it out on you. If you... If you wanted to leave me, to be with somebody else, somebody who could actually take care of you the way you deserve, I wouldn’t blame you.”

It felt like chewing glass, getting the words out of his mouth, but they had to be said. He knew they did. Tony deserved so much better than him, and he couldn’t stand between the other man and any opportunity that might have come his way, no matter his own feelings on the matter. Tony was already shaking his head, though.

“No,” he denied. “ _No_ , don’t you _dare_. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, okay? There is nowhere and no _one_ I would rather be with. I just, I had to make ends meet. That was all! And I never, _never_ slept with anyone at the club, not this time. I swear it, Bucky. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

And Bucky wanted to believe him. He wanted to so _badly_ , but he had to be sure.

“That man. In the alley…”

“A client, offered to pay extra to do it outside and I-“ Tony choked up. “We needed the money, Bucky…”

He sounded so ashamed, so pained over his own actions. It was obvious he didn’t think Bucky was going to forgive him for this. Bucky hauled him in for a kiss, pressing their mouths harshly together before backing off again.

“I _love_ you,” he declared, watching the way Tony’s eyes got big as he said the words neither of them had ever dared to say before. “Do you hear me? I love you. You’re it for me. I don’t ever want anybody else. And if you say there was nothing more to it, then… I believe you,” and he did. “But you’re not working there anymore. Tony, I _can’t_.”

Tony’s entire frame drooped.

“I love you, too,” he confessed quietly. “But I couldn’t get a job anywhere else, and even after I went back to the benefits office, I didn’t get anywhere-“

“You went back to the office?”

“Of course. I _know_ we filled those papers out correctly, Bucky. There had to have been some mistake! But you didn’t want to push the issue so I just… did it instead.”

Bucky stared at him.

“You made an inquiry about my benefits?”

Tony shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“I go back every week, just to see if there’ve been any new developments.”

It startled a laugh out of him, and Tony’s eyes immediately snapped up to meet his. Bucky couldn’t resist reeling him in for yet another kiss.

“You were right,” he gasped breathlessly as they parted once more. “You were right! There was a clerical error. My files got misplaced because of my work with the SSR and classified missions. That’s why I got declined. You were _right_.”

And they never would have discovered it if Tony hadn’t pushed, if he hadn’t done what Bucky was too busy feeling sorry for himself to do.

Now Tony’s eyes were lighting up as he gave a breathless little laugh of his own.

“You mean…?”

“Yeah,” Bucky told him, beaming as he pressed their foreheads together. “I’m gettin’ my benefits. It’s what Stevie was doing here in the first place, and he was spittin’ mad about it, too. You never have to go back to that club again, doll. Never.”

Tony kissed him emphatically, laughing and crying into it all at once.

“I don’t know,” he gasped out between kisses, “I might miss getting to dance for you in those back rooms.”

Bucky hoisted him up with one arm, Tony wrapping his legs around his waist and clinging to his shoulders to keep from falling.

“I’ll buy you a house,” he promised as he headed for the bedroom. Steve would know better than to come back too quickly, “and put a pole in our bedroom, so you can dance for me any time you want.”

Tony kissed him again as they crashed down onto the bed.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
